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The existence of this book brought together two things that I hold sacred: historic homes and women. While many highly regard these women's contributions, one could argue that their greatest legacy is the homes they left behind. The home is like the heart - a space that carries our deepest, fullest selves. It is (hopefully) a haven where we can shed who we think we ought to be and embrace who we truly are. Every woman needs a room of their own; a sanctuary that is entirely their own. A place where they can embrace the mess, frolic through their thoughts, and create freely, without burden. Although these women led very different lives, a common thread ties them together: they carved out space for themselves in a world that demanded much from them—and at times, mistreated them. As a lover of historic homes, what makes them so special is their unmistakable “lived-in" quality. Instead of flickering through galleries, you are stepping into the home’s very essence, experiencing it as it was when it was lived in. This gives it an eternal quality—as if it has always existed this way, and you are merely a guest in its story.
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I had this wild idea to take photos of small moments throughout my day to capture the essence of how I was feeling that day. When I started this personal project, I was feeling very disassociated with myself - I totally had no idea who I was. I made a conscious effort to capture every emotion as truthfully as I could. This meant taking photos on days I was sick, days where my mental health felt compromised, and even days I couldn't bring myself to get out of bed.
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